


Welcome Home

by marksdolphin



Series: Bond's Coming Home [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Consensual, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, blowjob, sorta thing, suggested dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:58:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5164694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marksdolphin/pseuds/marksdolphin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond came home from his most recent mission to the perfect welcoming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Home

Q missed Bond whenever he was away, he always had. This time it was different. Q missed Bond this time, yes, but he missed him more than ever before. He heard Bond's voice every day. He had to feed him information from the laptop on their bed, through the earpiece and across the world. He liked hearing the agent's voice, he just wished it was for something other than work. He wished he'd stop saying "can you get me everything you know on (insert particular topic)" and he'd start saying "I miss you, Q. I love you," or even better yet, "I want to fuck you." That was a favourite of Bond's phrases for Q. Whilst the Quatermaster liked to hear Bond profess his love to him (not that it happened very often), he like to be told what was going on. He liked to be asked too, of course. That was the best part about the phrase: it was always followed by "is that OK?" Q loved that. He didn't want to be dominated in the sense that he was just someone to fuck and then thrown away. He wanted to be dominated with his permission. He wanted the cuddles after sex, where Bond spends a good hour patching up any bruises he caused to his lover. Those were his favourite parts.

Q had left his earpiece in, unsure whether he did so because he wanted Bond to ask for help and hear him panting down the line, moaning his name or just in case he did. He didn't. Q's eyes closed and his head lay back as he pictured all the nights Bond was there with him. Crawling up the bed softly, bringing his mouth to his cock and sucking it. Q moaned then. He moaned loud as his own hand moved quicker against himself, tightening when he reached the base. He thought about the one time Bond had let him top. How good it had been. How nice it felt to be surrounded by the man, making him cry out as Q wanted him to. He had control that time, and he had liked it. He thought about Bond being sat next to him in that moment, the agent's hand pumping around his dick rather than his own. His breath hot in his ear, his soft kisses on his neck, his whisperings about how good Q was when it came to sex. How good he always was.

A cough bought Q round. He sat forward quickly, opening his eyes and stopping his actions. Bond stood in their bedroom doorway, leaning against the frame with his coat still on and a suitcase in his hand. "The perfect welcome home," Bond grinned, making Q moan slightly as the agent nodded at him to carry on. “Don’t stop just for me,” he started walking into the room, considering his words as he spoke them, telling himself not to beg Q to go on. Not to beg Q to keep going and let him watch the entire thing and listen to his heavy breathing. Instead he went over to the drawers in their room, and started to put some of his stuff away – weapons mostly.

Q carried on. He closed his eyes and thought about Bond telling him how to touch himself, telling him what he was allowed to do and when and telling him how well he was doing when he did exactly as he’d been told. 

“Slow down,” he may well have imagine the soft words being poured into his ear, but either way he wasn’t about to ignore them. He stopped moving his hand as quick as he had been, and began slowly stroking himself. He let his hand rise and fall with no particular rhythm as he came closer to his release. “Mhm, you’re doing such a good job there, Q. You’re doing so well, you’ll be cumming soon.” He definitely wasn’t imagining it. He felt Bond press his lips against his neck, his teeth following soon after as the agent made his mark. He put his hand on Q’s bare chest, running him fingers from Q’s neck down to his crotch painfully slowly. Q wanted Bond. He wanted him now.

“Ja-“ Q went to protest, went to go on about how close he’d been even before Bond had arrived and how now he was just making it worse, but he was cut off by Bond’s glare.

“Is that my name?” He asked with a perfectly straight face. His hand had stopped directly above Q’s cock, just too far away for any form of contact to form without Bond moving.

“No, Bond. Please, 007, Bond, just, please, touch me,” Q begged. He always ended up begging when Bond got back from a mission. Maybe something about the missions just made Bond desperate to tease Q until he couldn’t stand it any more – that was always how it seemed.

“Good boy,” he kissed Q on the corner of his mouth, and then on his jaw line, and the on his neck. He kept going, from his neck to his chest and switching from one nipple to the next before moving to his stomach. All the way down his stomach Bond planted light kisses, before finally reaching where Q had wanted him to be all along.

Bond place his lips over the tip of Q’s cock, teasing him with his hand to begin with before finally dropping his lips around the younger man. He moved slowly, taking his mouth away completely and then tracing his tongue along every inch of him before finally giving in. He put his hands on Q’s hips and took him as far into his mouth as he possibly could. He did it over and over again, pulling away every so often to work him with his hand.

It was just as Bond returned his lips to their position that Q really couldn’t hold back any longer. He tried to push against James’ hands which held his hips to the mattress, but failed. Nevertheless he cried out as he found his release deep within the double-oh agent’s mouth. “Bond!!” He cried out, gripping onto the bed sheets and he climaxed.

“Welcome home,” Q smiled once he’d recovered, being pulled tight against his boyfriend’s chest. 

“That was a rather brilliant welcome home, Q.”


End file.
